Do constitute 'High Art,' 'tis my belief
High Art is all my eye."
So when four weeks were wholly finishéd,
I from my gallery turned away.
"Give me green leaves and flesh and blood," I said,
"Fresh air and light of day.
I pine for Nature, sickened to my heart
Of the affected, strained, and queer.
What was to me Ambrosia of Art
Hath grown as drugged small-beer.